


He Had Seen Them

by writerllofllworlds



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Camelot, Character Death, Death, Feels, Hurt Everyone, Hurt Merlin, Magic, Merthur - Freeform, Pain, bromace, everyone knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 05:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerllofllworlds/pseuds/writerllofllworlds
Summary: Gwaine had seen them from the very beginning. The first time he ever witnessed either of them was when they were together, in that tavern, bickering and joking. They had been together.Arthur and Merlin.He had watched them for years, together, as a team. Fighting monsters, defeating evil.And Gwaine watched now, as the king held his sorcerer, and he swallowed.Arthur rested his golden head against Merlin’s and wept.





	He Had Seen Them

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Heads up, there's pain ahead!  
> I don't own BBC Merlin, or any of the characters except the Comedentimag.  
> All the spells are just translated Latin.  
> I'd love if you guys could give some feedback! Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!

Gwaine had seen them from the very beginning.

The first time he ever witnessed either of them was when they were together, in that tavern, bickering and joking. They had been together.

Arthur and Merlin.

Gwaine was immediately captivated by Merlin. He seemed nothing more than a clumsy, good mannered, big hearted boy who had yet to grow up. But as they got to know one another (and he bailed him out of the tavern), he saw more. There was a lot underneath it all, the smiles and the laughs and the clumsiness. There was so much more.

When Merlin picked him up to go to the Perilous Lands, he saw Merlin’s determination. He saw Merlin’s focus, his intelligence. He saw Merlin’s perseverance and skill and courage.

When they went after the Cup of Life, he saw even more. Merlin was smart, he was intuitive, he was sassy and commanding, he was caring and kind. Merlin was brave. When Gwaine became a knight, he saw Merlin as a friend.

When Gwaine became part of Camelot, he saw Merlin. He really looked at Merlin. He saw the way his shoulders dropped when he thought no one was looking, he saw the way he always seemed to be holding the world on his back. He saw the pain that always lurked at the edges of his bright blue eyes. He saw Merlin broken.

When Merlin revealed his big secret, he saw Merlin hurting. He saw people _hurting_ Merlin. He saw even the Queen shouting at the warlock, degrading him, insulting him. He saw many knights avoid his gaze, tread lightly around him like he might vaporize them at any moment. He saw servants go so far as to physically harm themselves to get out of working under him. And Gwaine saw Merlin stay. He saw Merlin lift his chin against the jeering mobs outside his window. He watched as Merlin helped those who would rather see him burn. He watched Merlin endure torture and abuse and persecution, all with compassion, and ultimately, love.

Merlin was amazing to Gwaine. He was incredible, smart, and kind and determined and so so brave. Merlin was strong against the fiercest storms, but gentle to the smallest flower. He was magical, in every sense of the word, and Gwaine loved it.

But Gwaine was no idiot. Merlin would always, forever, be the knight’s closest and best friend, the first person who had ever given him a chance. But someone else held that place in Merlin’s heart.

Arthur would _always_ come first.

Gwaine was not blind either. He saw them as a pair. He saw their combined wit and courage. He witnessed their teamwork, their skill. He knew that he would never amount to what Merlin felt for his king. So Gwaine stepped back; he fell into a comfortable position of simply watching, and his heart hurt only slightly. He watched as danger after danger was defeated and peace reigned. He watched Merlin finally be not just looked upon, but seen. He watched as Merlin and Arthur became closer than ever, their friendship seeming never ending, and it looked as if their rule together would never cease.

* * *

 

The knights reveled in the peaceful morning. Between all the treaties and tournaments, not to mention the battles, the men had barely gotten any time to just enjoy themselves.

Therefore, Arthur had, in the spur of the moment (though Gwaine suspected that Merlin was the true mastermind), decided that an outing was in order. It was told to the Queen and court it was a hunting venture for the upcoming feast, but all the men involved knew differently. They couldn’t care less about the game on this trip. No, this was simply to host one another’s company in time where their lives and kingdom didn’t hang in the balance. To have fun.

Days one and two were spent traveling and laughing. Arthur and Merlin at the head of the group, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, and Mordred trailed behind. Jokes and stories were exchanged. Nights were spent fill of heroic tales, but they were never told by the sorcerer. Merlin, in his everlasting and stupid humility, hardly ever told stories of his own deeds, and if he did, they were incredibly weighed down and squandered. So, since Merlin was a meek idiot, Gwaine or Leon usually told the tales, while Mordred joined in to explain the magic side of things.

The third day was the one that Gwaine treasured the most. Merlin had requested they go to a certain lake. Arthur could never refuse him anything, and they all agreed it was the least they could do for their friend. Merlin had looked at the sparkling water as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had started chuckling, the kind of way that he did when he was sad, and then there were tears in his eyes, but then his chuckles turned into loud, adorable, laughs. He sprinted out into the lake, and before Arthur or the others could shout about caution, he dove straight in. Gwaine couldn’t contain his grin when Merlin emerged, soaked to the bone but cackling like a child. All around him, the water shone like stars, and blue butterflies swirled about him in some colorful tornado. He looked younger than Gwaine had ever seen him, and he himself felt invigorated by the man whom had held the weight of the world for years, smiling like the child he never really got to be.

Something was in the air however, that this was Merlin’s affair. The knights were not to go into the water. Something about the way the warlock fell back into the water as if it was familiar, comforting, safe. The way he closed his eyes and sighed, like this was the simplest thing in the world. Gwaine saw Merlin happy, and it was his favorite part.

But, as per custom for the knights of Camelot and their faithful sorcerer, their expedition took a downward turn.

The 5th day of their journey took them towards the northern lands of Camelot. They had taken to walking on foot beside their steeds to enjoy the luxury of laziness. Merlin would wander in and out of trees occasionally, touching the bark and whispering spells. He would wave his hands to the flowers on the sides of the dirt path and they would spring up with life. Once, a random stag trotted up right in front of the horses and ducked its head under the surprised warlock’s outstretched fingers, then bowed low to the ground as if in respect, and danced off.

“That was…” Arthur muttered slowly. “Strange.”

Merlin’s brow was furrowed, and he pulled his horse to a stop. Something in the way his eyes flashed, not golden, but dark, put Gwaine on edge.

“Merlin?” the knight gripped his reigns tighter. “Is everything alright?”

The others paid more attention at this. Merlin was known for his “feelings”, which they had discovered just meant he was sensing with his powers, but they had always listened to them when he brought it up. Now, the way he turned to face the forest behind them, gaze narrowed and dangerous, gave away his feeling.

“I’m not sure.” He muttered, patting his horse’s neck comfortingly. “But the animals sense it too.”

Not a second later, a flock of birds scattered overhead, heading in the opposite direction almost with a sense of urgency, or perhaps that was simply Gwaine’s imagination. Then 4 foxes, 3 on one side and 1 on the other, scampered into the darkness before them. A herd of deer as well could be seen dashing down the same route. Animal after animal raced away from them, bears, wolves, eagles and snakes, and the knights had to hold onto their steeds to make sure they did not do the same.

And then there was silence. The birds had all fled, the prancing creatures too. Nothing was left. Even the wind seemed to stop entirely. The forest was holding its breath.

And then they felt it. Each of them gasped as the overwhelming feeling of fear spread out in tendrils around them. It seemed to emanate from the blackness that the animals had fled from, the dark wood to their backs, and they turned to face it. Gwaine felt his horse jerk, and his grip tightened even more, and he swallowed. If he had to, he would release his trusted mount to draw his sword. He saw the others’ hands hovering over their weapons as well, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Merlin, as usual, went first.

“Do you know-,” Arthur started.

“Not a clue.” The dark haired man shook his head, eyes alert. “But whatever it is, it’s big, scary enough to intimidate a full grown bear, and dangerous, so we must-,” And then they heard it. The horrible hissing. It did not sound like a snake, no, more wet, as if whatever it was, had liquid in its mouth. It was a terrible sound, the one that gave a man nightmares and made him see images when there were none. It came closer and closer until it seemed to surround them, the creature being everywhere at once. It said one word, one word that drove them all to their swords.

“ _Emrys_.”

Faster than lightning, the knights released their horses and drew their weapons. Arthur pulled Merlin behind him, and they made a protective circle around their friend, shielding him from whatever dark beast had sought him out. Gwaine would fall on his own sword before seeing Merlin die. But the darkness crept closer, and the sky was visible no longer, only blackness. The sun had disappeared, and even the trees looked no more than inky sticks in the darkness, slowly consumed with all else.

“Move aside worms.” The horrible, grotesque voice echoed around them as if in a large cavern, and they inched backwards, tightening their ring. “I have no quarrel with thee.”

“What do you want?” Arthur called out, Excalibur shining even in such darkness.

“Emrys is not yours, young King.” The invisible creature spat the name as if it was an insult. “Nor any of your knights, nor Camelot. He is one of the Old Religion, and the Old Religion calls him back to it.”

“He does not belong to anyone but himself!” Gwaine shouted, raising his chin. “And he certainly does not belong to you.”

“You must be strength.” The monster hissed, and for a moment he saw a flash of orange eyes in the blackness. “Sir Gwaine.”

They heard a gasp from the sorcerer, and Gwaine turned in time to see him grow pale. “What do you wish from me?”

“Merlin, shut up.” Arthur snapped, but the creature had already heard him.

“What do I wish from you?” it might have been laughing, but it was too disgusting to tell. “I want your magic. You have abused it, Emrys, and it no longer belongs to you.”

“Merlin’s magic is his alone and you-,” A hand to Elyan’s shoulder stopped the knight, and Merlin pressed past his friends to stand on his own. Where he stepped, the darkness retreated in waves. Still surrounded by such peril, Merlin’s light shone through.

“Show yourself.” He commanded. The darkness in front of the warlock bubbled and twisted until it revealed a man. His skin was black, as was the rest of him, save his eyes. They glowed yellow and orange, but had none of the comfort and security that Merlin’s did when he used his magic. No, these were terrifying and dangerous and threatening. No boyish joy, childish humor. No love. The dragonlord’s breath caught, and he flinched back. “ _Comedentimag_.”

“Merlin?” Gwaine wanted to walk forward, but found his feet rooted to the ground. Shocked, he looked around to find the others in the same situation. Arthur was reaching for his best friend’s neckerchief, but was far too short. “Merlin!” he yelped, but the man didn’t move.

“Surprised, young Emrys?” the monster moved to the left, seamlessly forming into a giant wolf, then a snake, and then a spider. It circled the warlock, never close enough to prick itself on his light, but always close enough to make him flinch.

“You’re supposed to be extinct.”

“The creatures of the Old Religion do not simply die out, Emrys.” It laughed that God – awful laugh again, and Gwaine struggled harder, grabbing onto Percival to aid him. “We are not that simple.”

“Yet you wish me to.” Merlin’s voice took on the old strength that they all knew. “By taking my magic from me, you would be killing me. But, as you said, creatures of the Old Religion do not simply die out.” Even from behind, Gwaine could see the smirk. “And neither will I.”

He stamped his foot on the ground and the inky waves scattered around him, freeing the King and his knights, who ran to his side. The creature hissed, drawing back at the light and changing into an unrecognizable beast. It roared, melting back into the black around it then surging out against Leon at the back. Merlin turned, shouting, “ _Si vocare_ _lucem_!” light burst forth from his hand, encircling Leon, sending the monster hurling away. Then he turned and thrust his fingers towards the ground. “ _Sol in circuitu_!” and suddenly sunshine was breaking through the black above them, and light spread. The inky darkness rolled away, the monster screeching in pain, and the knights gave their rally cries.

But the Comen-whatever Merlin called it wasn’t finished. “You are wicked, Emrys.” It seethed, forming again into a man. “To strike your own kind! Your kin! COWARD!”

“Begone, filth.” And suddenly it was not Merlin speaking, but the Dragonlord within him, and Gwaine took a step back. Arthur only moved forward, beside his friend, as he should be. “You cannot win. Run, and I will spare you. Fight, I will end you.”

“End me?” the creature smirked, showing his fanged teeth. “How can you do that, when you will be so busy fighting them?” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly they were surrounded. More than 30 abominations hissed around the 6 men, all gurgling and foaming at the mouth, black clones of their master. Merlin jumped into action, not a bit fazed. “ _Ligare lux_!” he shouted, and the knights’ swords glowed golden. Gwaine smirked, then dove into the fray.

The others were quick to follow. Merlin immediately took down a throw of the hideous monsters, light surrounding him in streams, lashing out and cutting through them as if they were water. Arthur was always at his side, back to back, as they always were. The warlock’s laugh floated around the fight, and Gwaine caught sight of his righteous grin, prompting one of his own, and then he slipped out of sight again. The sun rays were spreading above them, and the horrible beasts began to screech as light hit their black life – force. Gwaine sliced another in half, then beheaded the next, and then raised his sword to find no more around him. Glancing around, he noticed that it was the same for the others. Finishing off their lasts or done completely, they turned back to the only one left. The Comedentimag.

It cut Arthur off from his warlock, flinging the King to the ground. “Merlin!”

The blackness engulfed their friend, but Merlin was stronger. Light swirled around him, hurting the monster faster than it could harm him, and to Gwaine it almost looked like he was dancing. The magic had faded from their weapons, so they could do nothing but watch, even if he seemed fine on his own.

But Merlin wasn’t invincible. The magic he was using was tiring him, and Gwaine could see it.

“Death is upon you Warlock!” it grinned with horrendous joy. “Death and ruin to you and your filthy kingdom! Death to your king!”

“ _Inlustris_!” Merlin screamed, and light rained from all directions. Wind thundered in their ears as the golden streams soared around the warlock, building a looming dragon. The winged beast roared, yellow fire encompassing the dark man, hitting the Comedentimag so hard that it burst apart. A screech went up in the woods around them, and the blackness rolled away, back into the forest, but Merlin was not going to let it off that easy.

Tendrils of light sprung forth from his hands, wrapping around the disappearing darkness and drawing back towards him. “ _Ostende forma_!” the ink skinned man appeared again, this time clawing at the ground on his stomach, desperately trying to escape. The light formed chains around the creature, and he was knelt in front of Merlin, forced to look up at the warlock, and for the first time, an orange flicker of fear flashed in those horrible eyes.

“Threaten me all you wish.” The Dragonlord’s voice boomed, and to prove his point, the golden dragon appeared around him in all its glory. “But creatures of the Old Religion should know better than to threaten my King.” The Comedentimag froze, and then a smirk grew across its face, and Gwaine turned too late.

A black arrow whizzed past his shoulder, and even as Arthur screamed, “MERLIN!” the weapon embedded itself into Merlin’s back.

The warlock cried out in shock and pain, and the ugly, horrible, murderous creature shook off the golden chains and a sword formed in his hand. He grabbed Merlin’s shoulder, cupped his cheek almost gently, and Gwaine saw red. He raced forward, intent on ripping the bastard’s head off his inky shoulders, when the blade protruded from Merlin’s back.

Arthur screamed again, racing forward as well, only to be thrown back with Gwaine as the creature laughed manically. “What are you now, Emrys?”

Merlin stumbled, and the creature struck him, sending him to his knees. The arrow cracked as he hit the ground, and the Comedentimag removed its sword from the warlock’s abdomen. Gwaine raised himself on his elbows, head ringing, and saw the way that Merlin met Arthur’s eyes. He saw the way that Merlin mouthed some words that he couldn’t understand, and then swallowed.

“I’m still alive.” The sorcerer breathed, his eyes shone golden, and the world exploded.

When Gwaine’s vision cleared, he struggled to his feet. The sight before him made him want to throw up his breakfast. The creature was nothing more than a carcass. Its blood was inky black and dripping from its ragged shape. If he had it in him, Gwaine would have chuckled at the monster’s demise, but the red blood mixing with the black stopped the sound in his throat.

Merlin’s chest heaved as he struggled to breathe. Arthur had already raced to his side, and was applying pressure to the sword wound, and Gwaine blinked as tears clouded his vision.

A fool’s hope. Arthur was clinging to a fool’s hope.

He walked closer, as did the others. “Elyan, get that arrow out, and Leon, go find some water.” Their king was saying quickly, tearing off a bit of his cloak. “Percival go and try to get the horses. There are bandages and supplies. Gwaine, get me the-,”

“Arthur.” Merlin gasped, and the monarch stopped.

“Yes?” He took the quivering hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m here, Merlin, you idiot. I’m here.”

“There’s nothing-,” he coughed, and Gwaine saw blood form at the creases of his lips. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Don’t say that!” Arthur looked at his former servant as if he was mad. “Of course there is! Heal yourself! And what did I tell you all?” he wailed, noticing the knights’ presences. “Go! Merlin is dying and-,” The king stopped, eyes wide and misty. “Merlin – Merlin is dying. Please.”

Leon ran to get water, Percival sprinted after the horses. Elyan’s hands were shaking, so Gwaine sent him after Leon, and knelt beside his fallen friend. He grasped the end of the arrow and winced. “Merlin?”

“Do it.” Came the haggard reply. The bearded knight pulled. Merlin cried out in pain, and Arthur closed his eyes at the horrid sound, leaning down to press his forehead against Merlin’s, shushing him. “Done.” Gwaine wiped the blood on his trousers before tearing off another bit of Arthur’s cloak and pressing it to the bleeding wound.

“Merlin, I-.”

“It’s okay.” He breathed. “It’s – it’s okay.”

“No, no.” Arthur leaned back, head shaking furiously. “We’ll get you back to Gaius, we’ll save you, we have to get you back to Camelot and – and…”

“Arthur.” Merlin murmured, and he sought those blue eyes. “There is nothing you can do.”

“No.” the blonde croaked, voice shattering. He pulled Merlin closer, resting his dark head in his lap. He stroked his hair with his free hand as Gwaine tried to wrap the wound on the sorcerer’s chest. “Heal yourself! Call Aithusa! Anything!” the first tear ran down his cheek. “Please, Merlin. For me. _Please_.”

“Can’t.” his reply was short, as if the mere effort of talking was difficult, and Gwaine winced. This couldn’t be happening.

“Then – then tell me what to say and I’ll call her.” Arthur stammered, false hope rising in his eyes.

“You clotpole.” Merlin chuckled, blood dribbling down his chin, blood that Gwaine was quick to wipe away. “You aren’t a Dragonlord.”

“THEN DO SOMETHING!” Arthur screamed, and Gwaine looked at him sadly. Some would berate him for his callousness and anger towards a dying man, but he could see through it. Arthur’s entire world was crashing to ruin around him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“No time…” Merlin’s eyelids were fluttering. “Told you I’d end up dying for you.”

“You idiot.” The king hissed. “You complete and utter idiot!”

“But – but,” the warlock’s breath caught, and he whimpered. “But I’m _your_ idiot.”

Arthur’s lips tilted up ever so slightly, but Gwaine knew it was only to humor the man. “Yes, yes. My idiot.” He turned Merlin’s hand in his and kissed his palm. And Gwaine knew. He knew. And oh, suddenly, he was very glad that he did not love Merlin as Arthur did. The same thing that he had envied for years became all at once something he would not wish on anyone, friend or foe. Because, dear God, the pain was going to kill him.

“Don’t be a prat.” Merlin croaked, and suddenly his breath was coming fast, and he gripped Arthur’s hand tighter. “And – and tell Gaius-,”

“I will.” He replied, trying to keep him speaking, trying to keep him awake.

“And my mother – tell her I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about her.” Arthur swallowed.

“Take care of Aithusa. She won’t know what to do now that I’m gone –,”

“You’re not gone.” Arthur’s voice was pleading. “You’re not gone.”

“Arthur –.” Merlin jerked, and Gwaine wiped the blood away from his chin again, tears streaming down his face because this couldn’t be happening. “Arthur,”

“Yes, Merlin? I’m here!” the king’s eyes were laced with unshed tears. “What do you need?”

Merlin met his eyes, blue on blue, and his lips tilted upwards. “Thank you.”

Arthur grinned for a split second. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” He whimpered. “How will I do it without you?”

“I’ll always be – be with you.” He stuttered, raising a trembling hand to lay it over his heart. “Always.”

“Promise?” Arthur whispered, emotion thick in his voice. “Swear to me, Merlin, I can’t lose you, please.”

“Promise.” Merlin breathed. “I promise.” He jerked again, back arching, and he shouted in pain. There was nothing they could do.

 _This couldn’t be happening_.

But it was. It _was_ , and it was _horrible_.

Merlin’s hand fell limp in Arthur’s, and the king screamed.

Gwaine stumbled to his feet, sobs erupting from his throat.

He had seen them since the beginning. Arthur and Merlin, Merlin and Arthur. The Once and Future King and his faithful Mage. Together. Always together.

Gwaine had seen Merlin’s charm and kindness and wit and bravery. He had watched Merlin’s quick thinking and courage, his stubbornness and determination.

He had seen Merlin’s love.

He covered his mouth with his hand, stained with crimson, and screamed.

And Gwaine watched now, as the king held his sorcerer, and he swallowed.

Arthur rested his golden head against Merlin’s and wept.


End file.
